


i’m humbled by the passing of time (i am brought down onto my knees)

by thispapermoon



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hecate Extra Hardbroom, Hicsqueak, Hurt/Comfort, Mistletoe, Pippa Pentangle is a pent-angel, Yuletide, it gets steamy, kinda funny then kinda sweet then kinda fluff then kinda sad then more than a little smutty, post S1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispapermoon/pseuds/thispapermoon
Summary: “Mistletoe,” Pippa murmurs.“Hmmm?” Hecate can see all the tiny freckles on the bridge of Pippa’s nose.“Up there, mistletoe.”It doesn’t register, but Hecate raises her eyes to the small green bundle of herbs dangling from the doorway right above them, and then slowly back down to Pippa.Her brain feels fuzzy and languid and she can only think to say, “Funny, that’s a restricted ingredient at Cackle’s.”“Funny,” says Pippa, moving fractionally closer, “We’re not at Cackle’s.”****In which Hecate and Pippa attend a Yuletide ball and Hecate learns something about Pippa's past that changes everything.





	i’m humbled by the passing of time (i am brought down onto my knees)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!!!! This is def the longest fic I think I've ever written and def the first time I'm publicly posting smut, oh em gee, I'm nervous. However, ya'll were so lovely about my last fic, so thanks for that. <3 
> 
> These two just won't leave me alone. Also, I can't seem to stop putting them in fancy dresses and sending them to parties? What is that about? Oh ALSO, I'd written most of this and then Amanda came out in that red dress and I was like, am I dreaming - that's the dress!! 
> 
> Title is from MUNA's song Around U. All mistakes are my own.

Hecate likes sitting at Pippa’s desk. Though she’ll never admit to it, the soft cushions are much preferable to the austere, high backed chair she has in both her office and her own private study. It’s just such a shame that it is _pink._

But then there’s been a lot of pink in her life lately. Donuts that end up on the tea plate she procures for every second Friday, a sweater left in her broom satchel after a late fall picnic that she’s delayed in returning to its owner, the color of her checks when she looks up and finds Pippa looking over at her fondly. 

Like now, for instance.

Hecate purses her lips and drops her eyes, returning to the markings that lay in neat piles across Pippa’s desk (also pink). 

“Oh, come on Hiccup, it’s  _Friday night_. And you’ve been at those markings for _ages._ ” Pippa huffs, turning over from where she’s sprawled out on the sofa to lay on her stomach, her hand reaching down to swipe gingerbread from the low table beside her.  

She rests her head on one hand and crosses and uncrosses her bare feet in the air, munching on the biscuit. 

“I told you,” Hecate says evenly. “I’d only come if I could get through some of these markings. I have to harvest the winter garden this weekend and won’t be able to get to it otherwise.” She fixes Pippa in her sternest gaze and lifts an eyebrow loftily.

“Then what’s the _point_ of coming all the way to Pentangle’s?” Pippa sighs dramatically, licking her fingers in a way that makes Hecate flush.  

“I thought you liked my company.” She sets down her pen and ducks her head, preparing to excuse herself. 

Pippa shoots straight upright on the sofa and stares at her in dismay.

“I do! Oh, Hiccup, I do.” She gets up and settles on the desk beside Hecate, who tries not to think at how much her stomach tightens at the sight of Pippa in just her pajamas and bathrobe.

“Of _course_ I like your company. It’s only just I like it so much that I’m a being a bit selfish really.” She grins down at Hecate. “Alright, finish up. I would rather have you here grumbling over the poor marks of your students than not have you here at all.”

“I don’t grumble,” Hecate grumbles. 

“What was that?”

 “Oh, shut up, Pipsqueak.” But she’s smiling as she returns to her work. That is until she realizes that Maud Spellbody has misidentified toadflax as the common snapdragon and she heaves a sigh of despair.

 She feels Pippa move from beside her, only to return a few minutes later with a fresh tea cup with a gingerbread balanced on it’s saucer. The peace offering is deposited on the desk and Pippa brushes the tips of her fingers lightly against Hecate’s sleeve before returns to the sofa to engross herself in “ _Introducing Inductions: A Guide to Mentoring Young Covens.”_  

Hecate stares down at her pages, willing the tips of her ears to stop burning, and it takes a number of minutes before she can refocus her efforts enough to write, “A sad display of negligent witchery,” on Maud’s paper, underlining it twice before she draws a small diagram to outline the differences in the plants in the margin of the page.

They work in companionable silence, until finally Hecate sits back and rubs a hand over her eyes.

 “Done?” Pippa questions, and Hecate smiles slightly before indulging in the gingerbread and leaning further back into Pippa’s chair. _Pippa’s very comfortable chair_.

“Done.” She sighs.

“Excellent, then come here and relax for a spell. You still have a bit of time before you should head back.”

Complying, Hecate moves to the armchair by the fire and looks across at Pippa. This chair is even more luxurious than the one behind the desk and Hecate sinks into it with a groan, rubbing at her temples.

“I’m hoping that I can get all the bulbs in the ground tomorrow as it’s supposed to be a warmer day, and then harvest the witch-hazel blooms on Sunday. Only, I’m afraid to put off the witch-hazel - they’re nearing their peak and I’d hate to miss collecting them post-maximum potency. The mock rush can wait another week if need be, the cold won’t harm it. But then there’s the winter berries as well...” She stifles a yawn and looks sheepishly over at Pippa.

“I’m sorry for being such an old bore, Pipsqueak. It’s only that my first and second firm girls are so far behind where I hope they would be. Grading is taking longer and longer every year - their marks as a form are decreasing while the effort to teach them increases.”

She clasps her hands in her lap and signs.

“But I shouldn’t bother you with such trivialities.”

“Hecate, you are _not_ a bore and your work is not trivial.” Pippa slides to the sofa end nearest Hecate and sits cross-legged, leaning on her elbows.   

“It’s true, our students are coming to school less prepared than they were ten years ago. It’s just a fact of modern witching - the magic isn’t as strong with this generation. But they _can_ learn, Hecate. My top pupil right now is from a non-magical family, and look how far Mildred Hubble has come. Besides, it only takes you so long because you _spend_ so long making sure that they learn how to do better the next time. You let them know they’ve disappointed you, but you always give them a chance to improve. You’re a true teacher, Hecate. Never doubt that.”

Hecate’s eyes suddenly feel very wet indeed and she smooths her long fingers down across the fabric of her dress, blinking rapidly.

“Thank you, Pippa.”

“And if you’re worried about the garden, our third and fourth form students are away at an broomstick ice skating tournament and I’m anticipating a quiet weekend. Let me come up to Cackle’s tomorrow and help you.”

Hecate looks up shyly and moves to demure, but Pippa holds up a hand.

“I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, I can’t have you harvesting mock rush next weekend, I have plans for you.”

“Oh?” Hecate lifts an eyebrow but Pippa is up and off the sofa and rummaging about on her desk.

“If you mess up my paper stacks, Pentangle, you can just forget the pleasure of my company next weekend at” she pauses to imbue as much skepticism as she can manage into the next word, “ _whatever_ you have planned.” 

“Oh, don’t fuss so, here it is.” Pippa returns and balances on the wide arm of Hecate’s chair, her body warm against Hecate’s side.

Blinking down, Hecate grimences.

“A party? Me? Pippa, you can’t be serious.”

“Well I am. Please? For me? There won’t be any of those awful girls from school at all - it’s hosted by the parents of my Deputy Head. Old family friends. And I know you don’t like crowds, or parties, but you’d be there with me, and I’d love for you to meet my friends.” She bumps Hecate’s shoulder with her own, “and for them to meet you.” 

Hecate sighs and casts a dubious eye up at Pippa, who flashes a toothy smile that makes Hecate’s heart beat in double time, and Hecate knows that she will be attending this ball, like it or not.

“All right, fine.”

Pippa whoops and twirls away, returning with a map to go over the transference points.

“You’ll enjoy it, I promise, Hiccup. Beside, it’s Yuletide. It will be good for both of us to let our hair down.”

“It’s a party, Pippa, not the apocalypse.”

Pippa merely smacks her lightly with the map and beams. 

___

Which is how she finds herself here, on the flagstone path leading to a grand manor, having just landed perfectly in the center of the designated transference point. Snow is drifting down from the sky, just enough so that there’s a fine blanket covering the ground and clinging to the bare tree branches.

The large windows of the mansion glow with golden light, and music and laughter spills from within, muted slightly by the swirling snow. 

Gulping in a breath of cold night air, Hecate squares her shoulders and heads to the house. The magnificent oak doors swing open of their own accord and she finds herself in a warm and spacious entry hall. 

She barely has a moment to take in her surroundings before her name is called and she has an arm full of Pippa, warm and solid and giddy against her.

“Oh good, you’re here!” She pulls back beaming. “I was so sorry not to be able to come collect you, I came over early this morning to help prepare - it’s a bit of a tradition for Avery and me to fuss about all day making sure everything is perfect. 

At Hecate’s blank look, Pippa laughs again, turning to flag down a woman as she descends the grand staircase just to the right of the hall. 

“Avery, come here! There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

The women approaches, her crisp white gown contrasting beautifully with her dark skin, a holly leaf and berry pinned prettily in her hair.   

“Avery, I’d like you to meet Miss Hecate Hardbroom, Deputy Headmistress at Cackle’s. Hecate, Avery Heartsong, my Deputy Head.” 

Avery sweeps her a warm “Well Met” and Hecate reciprocates, willing her face not to flush, and trying not to cringe at how stiff and mechanical her greeting sounds in compares to the smooth alto of Avery’s voice. 

“Thank you for having me, Mistress Heartsong.”

“Come in and welcome, Hecate - may I call you Hecate? And please, Avery’s just fine for me. Pippa’s spoken nonstop about you for the past six months - the _stories_ she’s told me about what the two of you got up to in your school days. I hope you’ll fill me in on the ones she’s been holding back, eh?”

Hecate blanches but Avery grins and reaches out to clasp Hecate’s hand warmly between her own.

“We’re very glad to have you here.” 

A small slip of paper flutters over and nudges her shoulder and she releases Hecate to pluck it from the air and read it.

“Blast, trouble in the kitchen, Pip.”

“The tea sandwiches again?”

“Those are the ones!” Avery inclines her head at Hecate “My dear old Nan keeps wandering in and eating all the cucumbers off of the cucumber sandwiches,” she confides. “Best run. Enjoy the evening you two.” She turns and squeezes Pippa’s shoulder, winks at Hecate, and transfers away.

Hecate can’t think of anything to say, her cheeks feel hot and she looks at Pippa only to feel herself flame warmer as she takes in the way the red taffeta of Pippa’s gown hugs her waist and dips low, leaving her shoulders bare.

 If Pippa notices that Hecate’s tongue-tied she doesn’t let on, smiling happily.

“Let’s get you out of that cloak, shall we?” She reaches up and unclasps the ornate latch at the neck, lingering slightly. The gesture is intimate in a way that makes Hecate feel unsure, and she holds her breath until Pippa finishes slowly pulling the cloak from her shoulders. 

“Oh, _Hecate._ You look - you look -”

Hecate flushes and stares down at her shoes.

“Like an overgrown weed?”

“ _No_ , you silly witch. _Breathtaking._ ”

Pippa steps back and absentmindedly vanishes the travel cloak, looking Hecate up and down in a way that makes Hecate shift self-consciously, her ears very warm.

She’d bought the dress years ago only wore it once, to a Yule Ball for members of the Cauldron Club. It had hardly been an enjoyable evening and she found the crowd and the company to be too much, leaving a mere hour after arriving.

Still, she does rather like the way it looks on her. The dark, forest green velvet hugs her smoothly, uninterrupted by any detail or adornment, aside from the dozens of tiny buttons that run from her neck to tailbone, done up by magic earlier in the evening. And despite the way it clings to what few curves she possesses, the long narrow sleeves and high collar make her feel less exposed, more like herself.

She clears her throat and Pippa's eyes snap back up to her face.

“There now, Hiccup, you didn’t even have to let your hair down to be the bell of the ball, did you?” She reaches up and brushes the last snowflakes from where Hecate’s hair remains piled atop her head before taking her arm, leading her into the great hall beyond the entrance.

“Come in through here, I can’t wait to show you, we’ve magicked giant ice sculptures in the courtyard. And I think we’ve strung fairy lights on just about everything imaginable....”

Pippa chatters happily, her arm solid in Hecate’s, showing her the cleverly constructed, larger-than-life reindeer grazing in the courtyard, the ice so clear they look like glass; the thousands of snowflakes that hang suspended above the hall, never falling but letting out a dazzling shimmer; the musical instruments on a raised dais that play themselves. 

“I’ve been helping out the Heartsongs for years now,” Pippa sighs happily. “Our parents were close but I didn’t meet Avery until I was planning on opening Pentangle’s and was looking for a Deputy Head. She’s been a godsend, and her parties are always terrific. Every year we try to outdo ourselves.” 

She steers them to the drinks table and fills two goblets, her eyes twinkling at Hecate as she clinks their glasses together. 

“Drink up, Hiccup, I’ve already had one. And we can’t have me live up to your name before you do.”

Hecate laughs and sips at the punch which is quite good. A contented glow flushes through her and continues to grow as Pippa drags her on a circuit of the room, introducing her to friends and coworkers, and, Hecate thinks dowerly, _more admirers than Pippa seems to realize._

In truth, Pippa’s just as popular as she’s always been. They can hardly make it a few feet before someone calls out to her and descends for “Well Mets” and warm greetings. But Pippa stays close, her arm through Hecate’s nearly all the while, smiling up at her as she introduces her around,

There’s pride in Pippa’s voice and somehow it makes Hecate feel much more distinguished than really ought to, something that would make her cringe in normal circumstances. But something about having Pippa warm against her side, her eyes crinkling with happiness, makes Hecate relax into it. Or maybe it’s just the punch. 

 _“Hecate Hardbroom, Deputy Headmistress, Cackle’s Academy.”_  She announces to each person who rushes to embrace her and everyone she stops to welcome.

 _“May I introduce Hecate Hardbroom, Deputy Headmistress, Cackle’s Academy.”_   

Until suddenly it’s - _“Hecate Hardbroom, Deputy Headmistress, Cackle’s Academy, and my very best friend.”_

“It’s me, Pip, and we’ve been introduced - Hi, Hecate, your dress is gorgeous - I do hope you’re enjoying the party,” Avery grins at them.

“Oh, Avery, hello there,” Pippa beams and Avery smirks, taking in the pink of Pippa’s face and the way she leans ever so slightly against Hecate.

“Enjoying the punch, Pentangle?”

“Happy Yuletide to you too, Hardass Heartsong.”

Avery laughs and nods her head to the jovial crowd mixing around them.

“Great turn out, can’t wait for the fireworks later,” She leans in and mutters to Hecate, “We’ve magicked them so when they go off, they rain down Christmas cracker fillings.”

Hecate salutes her glass towards Avery. “I’m sure it will go over with a bang.”

Avery laughs delightedly and winks at the two of them, “Oh, I hope so.”

She’s called away and Pippa sighs, “I do supposed I’ve had enough to drink for now, the night is young - though so once were we.” She deposites her goblet on a nearby levitating tray and turns them so they move to a quieter corner of the room. They settle by the door leading to the hallway before the courtyard. The air is cooler here and Pippa leans against the jam of the wide doorway humming with contentment as she gazes out across the party.

“You friends are really lovely, Pippa,” Hecate murmurs, angling her body slightly so that Pippa can hear her over the music and rumpus. “I’m glad for that.” 

Pippa tilts her face up so she can look at Hecate and smiles contently. “They are a good lot, aren’t they? Much better than those battle axes who called themselves my friends back at school.”

Her lips twitch and she hooks her hand into the crook of Hecate’s arm again, fingers moving lightly against the fabric. “Exceptting you, of course.”

She’s gazing dreamily at a point just beyond Hecate’s head and her eyes travel to Hecate’s face and then up again, then back. Hecate watches her swallow and moves closer to hear her over the noise.

“Mistletoe,” Pippa murmurs. 

“Hmmm?” Hecate can see all the tiny freckles on the bridge of Pippa’s nose.

“Up there, mistletoe.”

It doesn’t register, but Hecate raises her eyes to the small green bundle of herbs dangling from the doorway right above them, and then slowly back down to Pippa.

Her brain feels fuzzy and languid and she can only think to say, “Funny, that’s a restricted ingredient at Cackle’s.”

“Funny,” says Pippa, moving fractionally closer, “We’re not at Cackle’s.”

 Hecate can’t think of anything to say to that. The punch has warmed her and diffused her nerves, all she can feel through a haze is the way Pippa’s fingers move against her arm as she runs her hand over fabric of her dress. And there’s the entirely different matter of the darkness of her brown eyes as she move closer still.

 There’s a loud crash, and a shriek, followed by uproarious laughter, and Hecate jerks back, her heart pounding.

“Pippa! Pip, come quick! Pippa, it’s the snow sculptures -” comes Avery’s desperate voice above the cacophony. There’s another shriek and more laughter followed by more squeals and screeches and several large bangs.

Unwinding her hand from Hecate’s arm, Pippa runs it down to squeeze Hecate’s fingers gently, looking apologetic.

“I better go see. I’ll be right back, I promise.” She presses Hecate’s hand once more before disappearing into the throngs of people now crowding through door to witness the commotion in the garden.

Heart pounding and head still slightly fuzzy, Hecate wanders into the perimeter of the hall, making a full loop before her head clears a little more fully. She bites on her lip and considers how fortunate the disruption had been, how close they had come - _she_ had come to - to -  

Swallowing tightly she turns and finds herself cornered by a plump, gray-haired woman in a cobalt spangled shawl.

“Hecate Hardbroom, my stars, this is unexpected,” the woman says merrily, clinking her glass against Hecate’s with enthusiasm.

She pauses at Hecate’s obvious confusion and peers up at her. “Goodness, don’t you remember me, dear? Well, I suppose it has been thrice as many years as sisters are in my coven since I last saw you.” She lifts a ring-bedecked hand to her forehead and gives a jolly bow.

 “Merriweather Mews, or rather, you most likely remember me as Mistress Mews, neighbor to the Pentangles. Well Met, again, Hecate.”

But before Hecate can gather herself and return the pleasantry, Mistress Mews catches her up by the arm and tows her over to the treats table where she summons over a plate and piles it high with puddings and sweets, thrusting it into Hecate’s hands.

“I haven’t seen you since you were just a slip of a thing. Not that you’ve filled out more now, still as lanky as ever I see,” she chatters, rolling a disparaging eye over Hecate from head to toe.

“Eat up, eat up!” She bounces on her toes as she prepares her own plate. “I remember. Thick as thieves, you and that Pippa were,” she says around a mouthful of plum pudding. “Always zipping around the place on your brooms in the summertimes and stargazing on the Pentagle’s rooftop in the dead of night. Woke up everyone within a mile of the place up with your giggles, you did.”

Hecate suddenly finds a fork brandishing under her nose in a rather threatening manner. “And _sneaking_ into my garden to collect belladonna and fig root for _goodness_ knows what potions you bright young things were cooking up.” She throws her head back and laughs, retracting the fork to scoop up a bit of trifle instead. Hecate smiles weakly.

There’s a loud whoop and much merriment from the courtyard Hecate turns at the distraction to see Pippa nearly doubled over in laughter as she tries to spell down several of the giant reindeer ice sculptures which someone has charmed into performing lewd acts with one another.

“Come on, Pentangle, are you a headmistress or not? Put them in detention!” Someone hollers good-naturedly and the crowd guffaws and divides, some cheering Pippa and Avery on, and others adding to the havoc with covert spell casts during moments of their distraction.

One of the sculptures transfigures into a moose, larger and even more interested in the remaining deer than before, and Hecate lips twitch upwards as she watches Pippa cover her eyes with one hand and throw out spells with the other, all the while shrieking with laughter. 

She almost forgets that Merriweather is standing beside her and nearly jumps when she speaks again.

“So nice to see Pippa smiling. Especially after that terrible, terrible business in her youth. And now, look at her: Headmistress.” There’s pride in her voice, but also sadness.

Hecate whips her head around to frown at Merriweather and the words are out of her mouth before she has a moment to think. “What business?”

Merriweather’s eyes travel regretfully from Pippa in the garden back to Hecate’s and she nibbles on a sweet, suddenly apprehensive.

“Oh, you remember, don’t you? It was awful. I was _sure_ that afterwards they were going to take her powers.”

At Hecate’s shocked expression, Merriweather grimaces and pats Hecate on the arm gently.

“There now, dear, didn’t you know? You were her best friend, after all.”

Hecate feels ice water travel from the base of her neck down her spine and she strives to keep her voice pleasant.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, well, the family did try to keep it very quiet - her mother was always tight lipped about it when she’d come round for tea. Though I always have sworn there was more to it than she was telling me.”

Merriweather’s hand tightens on Hecate’s arm and she’s suddenly studying her rather closely. “I do seem to recall now though, your name attached to the story? Somehow?” she says slowly. “You sure you don’t recall?”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken, Mistress Merriweather,” says Hecate evenly, “I spent nearly my whole childhood with Pippa, we only parted just before university. Pippa never was in any trouble like that, I can assure you. You must have confused her with another girl.”

But Merriweather is shaking her head sadly, her troubled eyes returning once more to watch Pippa, now sitting side saddle on the back of a perfectly docile frozen reindeer as the crowd around her cheers.  

“But it was _just_ before university, my dear girl. That summer. Poor Pippa had to withdraw after that terrible incident - after the people from Mungo’s came and took her away - surely you knew _that_ ,” she says, askance.  
  
Blinking, she suddenly seems to registers Hecate’s quiet distress and plucks Hecate’s untouched plate from her shell shocked hands and sets it aside to clasp them between her own.

“Oh, there now, it’s all right as raindrops in a cauldron,” she says squeezing reassuringly. “I’m sure Pippa just didn’t want to worry you. After all, she was home by All Hallow’s, just as sweet and bright as ever. She enrolled at Spellwend’s the following term and it hasn’t been spoken of since. And look who she’s grown up to be. A finer witch you never saw.”

Merriweather’s eyes sparkle with tears of pride and she mistakes the ones in Hecate’s as the same, her joviality returning all at once. She releases Hecate to pluck up a mince pie off the table which she chews with a shrewd gleam in her eye.

“Though I never understood why she hasn’t married, that girl. I suppose she’s _awfully_ devoted to that school of hers, but I can’t image a witch as beautiful as our Pippa would have any trouble finding some handsome wizard to warm her bed, if you know what I mean. Such a shame.”

She chortles and flushes at her own daring but Hecate hardly hears her.

There’s a strange and sudden rushing in her ears and a creeping dread settles in her stomach. It’s all she can do to choke out a meek, _“Excuse me,_ ” before she’s making for the entrance.

She’s out the grand oak doors before she realizes, her cloak somehow materializing about her like a ward as she stumbles out into the swirling snow.

She doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t know if she’s leaving or staying, doesn’t know what is true or what isn’t. 

There’s only a red hot beat in her stomach that pluses in time to her thoughts and the black feeling that something is terribly, terribly wrong - something that she’s helpless to stop. She staggers further down the path, her legs leadened and uncooperative.

Over the rushing in her ears she thinks she hears her name, but it’s as if she’s underwater, murky and muddled and gasping for air that will not come. Spots dot her vision and she doubles forward, hands on her knees, eyes squeezing shut as cool flakes brush down around her.

And then hands are on her back, on her shoulders, sliding down her elbows. She forces her eyes open, blinking rapidly until the blurry image of Pippa crouching down in front of her comes into focus.

Pippa’s speaking, she must be, her lips are moving, but Hecate can only hear the blood rushing in her ears, thick and cloying. Still, she anchors herself in the calm, steadying look in Pippa’s eyes, letting all fall away until there’s nothing left but the familiar dark brown.

She gasps in a breath, and then another.

“Good, that’s good. One more, Hecate, take one more breath from me,” Pippa is saying as her hearing returns.

She inhales, exhales, shudders. She feels a hand on each elbow as Pippa rises, pulling her upright.

“It’s okay,” Pippa is murmuring, “You’re alright, darling. A few more good breaths, here -” She pulls Hecate’s hands forward and places one over her stomach and the other over her heart.

“Breath with me, Hiccup. Just like this.”

Hecate lets her forehead drop forward until it’s resting against Pippa’s and she breaths, in, out, in, out, losing herself in the movement of Pippa’s diaphragm and the reliable thump of her heartbeat.

Time seems to stretch out around her until she eventually becomes aware of the snow falling heavily and the deep hush it brings along with it. She can feel cold beneath her feet. And against the tips of her ears. And under her palm.

She pulls back and takes in the sight of Pippa’s bare shoulders and the way her teeth chatter slightly as her breath comes out in a nearly frozen mist.

“Pippa.” She says. Can’t think of anything else to say, not anything that would encompass the primal urge that’s unfurling in her stomach that says _protect Pippa._

She reaches up and unclasps her cloak, the hem swirls against the snow as she wraps her securely in it, daring to let her hands linger against the fabric as she smooths it down around her.

When she looks back up, Pippa’s gazing at her with such fondness that for a moment she almost  forgets that protecting Pippa means protecting Pippa from herself.

She steps back hurriedly and feels the choking fear rise up within her once more. But Pippa moves with her and steps forward reaching for Hecate’s hand to bring it between the folds of the cloak to rest once more against the soft curve of her stomach.

“Hey - hey. Breathe.” And Hecate does. Can’t help but to, not when it’s what Pippa wants.

“I saw you got cornered by old Mistress Mews. Hecate, did she say something to you?” Pippa’s eyes flash dangerously and Hecate stares at Pippa. Looks her over for anything that might validate Mew’s story, anything that’s beneath the surface other than _her Pippa._

 _Well_ , she thinks, a sick feeling rising in her stomach, _not yours. Never yours._

But all that she sees is Pippa’s wide, concerned eyes turning gentle as Hecate’s fingers curl briefly, instinctually, against her stomach before pressing flat again. 

Pippa’s hands are back at Hecate’s elbows, running over the soft velvet of her dress and squeezing slightly, drawing her closer.

“If you want to leave, we can leave,” she says gently. “If you want to be alone, I understand that too.” She brings one hand up to brush snow off of Hecate’s cheek, her hand cold but gentle and she lets it linger, fingers only just resting against Hecate’s skin.

She leans closer. “Hiccup, I -”

There’s disturbance nearby, a large gasp and then -

“Pippa!”

“ _You!!_ You, you get _away_ from her!”

Pippa releases Hecate as though shocked and whirls around to face the new arrivals. Hecate places the first voice as Pippa’s father and the second as her mother and her skin goes hot then clammy.

“How _dare you_ show your face here, back away from my daughter -”

“Mama!” Pippa moves so she’s blocking - nearly shielding - Hecate from her parents who stand frozen in rage at the transfer point several feet away.

“What is the meaning of this?” Pippa’s mother says, her hands wringing the sleeve of Mr. Pentangles’ coat where she clutches his arm. Her eyes narrow, focusing in on Hecate, and suddenly she’s moving forward with deadly purpose.

“Stop, stop it!” Pippa implores, standing her ground. Her hand comes back and she grips Hecate’s wrist, holding her in place. “How dare you speak to Hecate like that!”

But Pippa’s mother is relentless, trying to lean around Pippa to thrust her finger in her face despite Pippa’s efforts to shield her.

“After what you _did_ to our daughter, have you no decency -”

“Papa, _please_ ,” Pippa begs looking beseechingly over at her father, but he approaches slowly looking grim.

“This isn’t wise, Poppet. Remember what happened the last time you got involved with that woman.”

“We were _children,_ I was little more than a _child_ \-  Mama, Papa, stop! Please!”

Pippa sounds near tears and Hecate feels hot, sick shame rising inside her. She brings her fingers around to her wrist and gently moves to disentangle Pippa’s fingers where they hold fast.

“No!”

Pippa whirls around and tangles her fingers between Hecate’s instead. “No, they don’t get to treat you like this, not when I - not when I -” Pippa’s eye shut briefly and when the open they are full of fire.

She turns back her parents and widens her stance in front of Hecate.

“This isn’t like last time. This won’t _be_ like last time.”

But Mr. and Mistress Pentangle are looking at the pair of them with horror and sadness and Hecate feels dread shift in her stomach. 

“You can’t afford to _have_ it be like last time, Poppet,” her father says gently. Beside him, her mother nods.

“You have a school - full of children - he’s right, my darling. You can’t afford it. I hate to think -” her voice trembles and she continues on in nearly a whisper. “Woods destroyed, half our home blown up, _Pippa,_ think of what could happen.”

Hecate feels a cold rise up inside that has nothing to do with the snow as Pippa’s fingers slip from her own.

“No. _No.”_

“There, now, dear, it’s going to be alright. We only want what’s best for you.”  Her parents move to either side of her and place their hands on her shoulders. Hecate can feel their transference spell gathering in the air like a shiver. The trio glows bright purple for a moment -

“ _Hecate_ is what’s best for me.”

Pippa wrenches herself free of the spell at the last second as her parents disappear into the air without her.

She stumbles backwards with the force of it and Hecate automatically reaches out and catches her, pulling her tight, holding her up.

The last wisp of the spell dissipates and Pippa sags further against her for a moment before steadying herself. But Hecate doesn’t let go.

Slowly, very slowly, Pippa turns in her arms. Her head is down Hecate catches sight of a nearly frozen tear falling like a diamond in the small space between their bodies.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Pippa is whispering, and Hecate doesn’t _understand_. But for perhaps the first time in her life she finds she doesn’t need to. Not when Pippa’s hurting.

She tightens her arms around Pippa’s back, holding her more securely until they are toe to toe and heart to heart and Pippa _clings_.

Her tongue feels thick and heavy in her mouth, but she tightens her grip and finds what she hopes are the right words.

“What do you need.”

Pippa raises a tear streaked face and melts against her.

“Take me home, Hecate. Please, take me home.”

Hecate nods and they wink out. Just like that.

____

The first thing Hecate does when they land back in Pippa’s chambers at Pentangle’s is use a drying spell from the tip of their sodden hems to the top of their snow-damp hair. Pippa remains standing silently in the center of the room where they landed, and Hecate gently reaches under her chin and releases the clasp on the cloak, guiding it off Pippa’s shoulders until she can vanish it to the hook by the door.

It’s only then that Pippa seems to come back to herself a bit, pressing her lips together in a thin line that Hecate can’t read and turning towards the tea service. Hecate lights the fire and when she turns back, Pippa’s curled on the large window seat looking out into the swirling snow, the tea service floating unattended beside her.

It would be a beautiful image - Pippa in her red dress, wisps of her blond hair slipping from its chignon to curl about her face, framed against the night sky - if it didn’t make her heart curl up under her ribs. She approaches hesitantly, and when Pippa doesn’t turn, she settles herself at the far end of the window and pours out tea for them each.

Pippa sighs, measured and careful, and turns so that she can take the proffered cup from Hecate, bring it up so the steam rises up against her face. She exhales once more and looks over at Hecate her face closed off in a way Hecate has never seen it.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” she murmurs, bringing the cup back to her lap and cradling it between her hands, untouched.  

Hecate hesitates and turns as well so that she’s facing Pippa more fully.

“I just - I only -” She stops and starts again. “Are you alright, Pippa?”

Pippa smiles at that, gently, almost wistfully, and her gaze drops to watch the steam drift from her teacup.

“When you left -” she begins, and then stops. Hecate winces.

“This isn’t a condemnation, Hiccup,” she says softly, and her eyes come back up to meet Hecate’s. She shifts and sets her teacup aside, curling her legs more fully underneath herself so that she can lean back against the window casement, the skirts of her dress cascading down the edge of the seat.

“I took it hard, you know,” she continues in the same soft voice. “I suppose - I suppose that after all those years I had grown so used to you, to your magic. It was almost as if it wasn’t a separate thing from mine - we met so young, we were so close - it was as if I didn’t know my own powers without yours there to counterbalance.”

She laughs a little to mask what Hecate suspects as a sniffle and tilts her head back so she can resume watching the snow.    
  
“And I suppose I was, well, at a loss. Depressed, I think. Practicing magic became painful, all the joy had gone out of it. So I stopped. But then my magic, which already felt unfamiliar and strange, had nowhere to go and turned inward. By the time I realized that I couldn’t just ignore such a big part of me, I’d lost the ability to control it.”

She reaches up and brushes a few tears from her cheek with a shaking hand, but continues on steadily.  

“And I think - there were other things. Things I couldn’t admit to myself. Not then. Not for a long time after.”

“ _Pippa.”_ Hecate breathes, she swallows down her tears, anger at herself and heartbreak for Pippa warring all at once within her.

“I had no idea - I - If I have _known_ I would have, I would have _never_ \- “

“I know.” Pippa smiles at her, but there’s a sadness in her eyes that makes Hecate want to try to make Pippa understand that she never hated her - could have never hate her.

“When you didn’t show up at Weirdsister College,” she says in a low voice, “I went to the register. It was a few weeks into term and you just weren’t _there_ and I knew Weirdsister was your dream. How hard you’d worked to make it happen. When they told me that you’d withdrawn I thought it was because you hated me so much for what I’d done that you didn’t ever want to see me again. That you hated me so much that you’d given up your dream - or - or -”

Hecate pauses and heat rises to her cheeks, “Or, I wondered if you’d fallen in loved and married over the summer, like so many witches in our year did.”

“ _Married?”_ Pippa’s looking at her and there’s something dangerous in her eyes.

“I heard you were going steady with Connor Wandwick that summer,” Hecate mutters, curling into herself in shame. After all these years, resentment and jealousy still licks sickly at her stomach at the thought.

Pippa snorts and Hecate’s head jerks back up to stare at her.

“Yes, well, Conner Wandwick, _did_ come around a bit that summer.”

Hecate swallows around the nausea in her throat.

“He tried to kiss me and I accidentally blew up the woods behind our house.” Pippa says calmly, reaching for her tea cup and sipping from it primly.

Hecate laughs before clapping her hand over her mouth in shock, looking askance at Pippa who rolls her eyes.

“Mmmm. I convinced him it had been lightning - not the brightest, that one - and we said no more about it.”

She returns her cup to its saucer and folds her hands in her lap before looking back out at the snow.

“The day I blew up my parents house they’d just been asking when you were going to come stay for the holidays. It wasn’t until much much later that I could tell them the truth. About how I felt.” She glances over at Hecate.

Hecate looks away, ashamed. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I wanted you to succeed, I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“I know you did,” Pippa says gently. “And, Hiccup, I meant what I said when I said this is not a condemnation. I was young, a teenager still, really.” She gives a self deprecating shrug.

“I’d never had heartbreak or a loss, I had no channel for it. And yes, I did have to go away for awhile and figure out who I was in my own right, without you. What my magic felt like, without yours. And, after, I put everything I felt into my studies, and then, later, this school.”

She rearranges herself on the window seat so she can reach out and lay a gentle hand over Hecate’s.

“And I have had a good life, a happy one even. I’ve built something for myself with my school and my career. But I think I convinced myself that nothing was missing. And now that you’re back in my life - well - it’s harder to persuade myself of that it’s not.”

Hecate bows her head and turns Pippa’s hand over so that they rest palm to palm.

“All these months, I never knew.” She brings her other hand up so that Pippa’s hand is cupped between her own. “Why? Why couldn’t you tell me?”

Pippa laughs softly again and this time it doesn’t quite manage to mask the sniff, and she produces a hankie from thin air and disentangles herself so she can sit back and blow her nose. When she’s finished she vanishes it and smooths a few strands of hair behind her ear.

  
“I didn’t know if you truly wanted to be friends with me again, and if you didn’t, I never wanted to make you feel like you couldn’t leave because I might fall apart without you.”

_Oh._

Hecate wants to tell her that she’s never leaving again. That she’ll stay and be Pippa’s for as long as she will have her. But the old fears crowd her throat and she can only manage to shake her head, reaching to grasp Pippa’s hand again as unshed tears bead against her lashes.  
  
They sit in silence for a spell, and Hecate searches for the words, the ones that burst into her head at the mere sight of Pippa: _I love you._ _You are everything. You are wonderful._ _You are brighter than the sun. I’m not worthy._ And she swallows around the lump in her throat as the voice of reason in her head continues on. _You’re only being selfish. She could never love you._

She’s startled from her thoughts when Pippa speaks again, her voice soft beneath the crackling of the fire. 

“Do you think differently of me now?”

“Wh - what? _No._ Only that I should have been there for you - _could have_ been there for you.”

Pippa shrugs her shoulders up and down and releases Hecate’s hand to twist her fingers anxiously together in her lap.

“I always assumed that the reason my magic went haywire was the same as why you left.”

“How do you mean?”

“Because I was hopelessly, desperately in love with you.”

_“What?”_

Pippa looks away and out the frosty window into the blankness of the night.

“Do you think differently of me now?” She repeats.

Hecate feels something in her chest drop down into her stomach and then explode, reverberating through every cell.

“Pippa.”

Pippa turns and looks at her, shrugging slightly.

“I thought you knew, maybe. I thought that might be why you left.”

“No, _no._ I thought -” Hecate halts, trembles, tries again. “I thought - that - that maybe _you knew_ \- that I - that _I_ -“

She breaks off as hot angry tears slide down her cheeks.

“What have I done to us.” She blurts out, curling her hands into fists against her knees until her nails bite into her skin.

She hears a gasp and then Pippa, voice trembling, whispers, “You mean you felt the same?”

And Hecate raises her face and tries to mask the wanting, wanting, _wanting_ that she’s sure hangs hollow in her cheeks. “Since the day I met you.”

Pippa’s face crumbles. She pulls her knees into her chest and sobs, hugging herself tight.

“I’m sorry,” Hecate whispers, her voice shredding around the rising horror that bubbles up within her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

Pippa cries harder and Hecate tamps down the pain into a place deep inside her that she built long ago, taking a steading breath before she says, “I can go. If you want, if this would make things easier.”

Pippa’s head snaps up and she’s crawling across the window seat until she’s next to her, making a soft noise in the back of her throat, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Don’t you dare, don’t you _dare_.”

And Hecate feels her heart unfurl, reaching for Pippa as Pippa reaches for her, and when they collapse into each other's arms Hecate allows the tears to come, pulling Pippa close against her.

 _“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ ,” she hears herself whisper over and over like a supplication, like a chant.

Time passes and eventually they calm. Pippa, head buried against Hecate’s shoulder, takes a deep shuddering breath and her hand reaches blindly up to stroke Hecate’s cheek, moving down until her fingers just press against Hecate’s lips, stilling them. She keeps her fingers there for a moment before taking Hecate’s hand and bringing it to her mouth to kiss her knuckles.

A kiss flutters on her palm just below her thumb, and then further down the wrist where Hecate’s pulse point is beating in time to her heart.

“Well then,” Pippa breaths sitting upright, “I think we have to make up for lost time.” She wipes at her tears, then at Hecate’s. “Now that we’re on the same page.”

Reaching up, she gently unpins Hecate’s hair until the long braid tumbles down over her shoulder. She winds her fingers into where the hair loosen at the base of Hecate’s scalp and and leans in until they’re barely a breath apart.

And Hecate closes the distance between them.

Closes the distance on thirty plus years of wanting, of warring, of heartbreak and denial.

Pippa’s lips are soft against hers, slightly salty from her tears. She sighs into the kiss, a languid, slow press of mouths, until Pippa’s tongue runs along her bottom lip and bright, hot heat floods her body. It’s better than anything she’s ever felt.

Her lips part, keening into Pippa’s mouth as Pippa hums back, nipping at her lower lip and tugging it between her own and Hecate jolts so hard in surprise that she breaks away. She stares at Pippa, breathing hard.

For her part, Pippa is flushing and looking equal parts dazed and pleased. She leans in again and brushes her nose against Hecate’s before capturing her mouth once more and pushing her back against the window casement.

Hecate loses herself in the feel of Pippa against her, the softness of her dress under her hands, the smoothness of her bare arms around her, the silky threads she catches between her finger after she reaches up and releases Pippa’s hair so that is cascades down around her shoulders.

Under her mouth she can feel Pippa smiling, and Hecate moves so that she’s kissing over Pippa’s jaw and down to just below her ear, and Pippa makes a _sound_ that has Hecate curling her fingers in the fabric of Pippa’s dress and pulling her closer so that their bodies pressed together.

“I want -” she tries, breathing hard into Pippa’s ear, flushing to match Pippa’s dress at how needy she sounds.

Her fingers skate around to Pippa’s back and search for a zipper, and she nearly cries in frustration she she finds none.

“You want my dress off?” Pippa all but purrs from where she’s sucking hot kisses to the skin right above where Hecate’s collar ends.

“Mmm-hmh,” she gasps, arching, and contradicts herself as she tugs once more on the dress to pull Pippa back to her mouth.

Pippa breaks away and stands, her fingers finding the zipper at her side and slowly pulling it down, a cheeky grin slides across her face, widening as the zipper lowers.

The dress slips free, and she pushes it down until it pools around her ankles.

She’s completely naked underneath.

“What,” She preens, her eyes glint wickedly at Hecate’s wide-eyed sputtering. “I didn’t want to ruin my lines.”

Feeling dumbstruck, Hecate allows herself to be pulled to standing and she hesitantly slips her arms around Pippa’s waist, feeling the warm softness of her skin. It sets off an explosion of fireworks within her and she closes the distance so she can bury her face in Pippa’s shoulder, her hands smoothing down her naked back.

She hears Pippa gasp, and then Pippa’s moving against her in a way that Hecate never dreamed possible, arching and rubbing herself against the green velvet that stands between Pippa and Hecate’s skin.

“Oh, Hecate. Hiccup. You feel so good.” Pippa pulls her closer still, finding a thigh and pressing it between her own, grinding down hard.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Hecate hears herself say, but it sounds a long ways off. All she can focus on is the warmth of Pippa in her arms and the desperate way she’s pulling Hecate up against her body.

Pippa’s movements become more frenzied and Hecate pulls their faces together so she can feel Pippa gasp against her mouth, their lips barely touching.

And for the second time that evening she feels Pippa clinging to her.

“What do you need.”

“You,” Pippa breaths. “I need you. Bed. Now.”

Hecate feels her magic move within her like her own desire, and they wink out once more.

_________

She lands on top of Pippa on the bed, not her most coordinated transference, but the weight of Hecate between her legs makes Pippa pant, bowing up to rub against Hecate once more.

“This dress,” she breaths, “I won’t last much longer with you still in it. It needs to come off, _now.”_

She pushes on Hecate’s shoulders, and Hecate sits up, raising a hand to vanishes it, only to be stopped by Pippa grabbing her wrist.

“No. I want to do it. I want to do it properly.”

“Magic _is_ proper, Pippa,” Hecate huffs. “We’re witches.”

But Pippa’s shaking her head, gesturing for Hecate to stand by the bed as she moves to kneel behind her.

“I know. I just want to.”

Hecate feels herself pulled back so that Pippa’s front is pressed firmly up against her and she can feel Pippa trembling as she sucks in a long breath.

“This dress is coming off. But mark my words, Hecate, I’m going to do obscene things to you in the future, and you’ll be wearing it.”

Hecate whirls around, her eyes brows streaking up to nearly meet her hairline as her face flushes hotly, but Pippa’s hands are on her shoulders manhandling her forward again before she can fully turn.

“No - forward,” Pippa instructs and Hecate feels dizzy with the sudden understanding of what is coming next. Of what they’re about to do here, in this bed. Together. At last.

Pippa’s fingers stumble clumsily over the buttons along her back, parting them one by one until Hecate can feel hot breath along her spin, Pippa’s mouth even hotter, pressing open mouth kissing to each new expanse of skin. Her fingers slip on a button and Hecate feels her press her forehead between her shoulder blades, can tell she’s trying to quell her own desire enough to continue. The thought cracks opens up something within Hecate’s belly, spirling out and down until she’s gasping, canting her hips out desperately into the air. It feels dangerous. It feels good. It feels like if she doesn’t have Pippa between her legs this instant she might just die.

“ _Please,_ ” she whimpers and Pippa pulls back, her fingers stubbornly returning to the buttons, but then a spell is muttered and suddenly her fingers speed up, made nimble and steady by magic. Hecate bites back a laugh that becomes a moan as Pippa reaches the base of her spine and spins her around so that their eyes line up perfectly from where Pippa kneels on the bed.

Holding her gaze, Pippa brings her hands up and slowly pushes the dress off of Hecate’s shoulders until it pools about her waist, her hands following in its wake, brushing over Hecate’s breasts in a way that makes her whole body tighten, and then down, down, along a smooth expanse of stomach until Pippa reaches her hips and the garment falls to the floor.

“Oh, Hecate,” Pippa breaths, and the reverence in her voice is Hecate’s undoing. She falls forward onto the bed with a cry, pushing Pippa back until their hips bump together and she’s grinding against a firm thigh, trembling and dizzy and a little frightened by her need.

It’s enough to make her pause, pull back, look uncertainty down at Pippa. But Pippa shifts slightly and then she feels her, hot and wet against her own thigh and a blaze of heat burns down to her center.  Her hips jerk in a way that pushes her more firmly against Pippa, and Pippa against her, and she feels at the edges of her very sanity at the friction.

“ _Please,”_ She whispers again and Pippa guides her into a searing kiss before flipping them over moving on top of her, pushing Hecate into the mattress. She looks down at Hecate with a blazing look and leans into kiss the corner of her mouth, the edge of her cheekbone, the curve of her neck, before pulling back.

“Is this ok?”

Hecate nods swallowing, as she feels Pippa’s hands slide under her to release the clasp on her bra. Gazing up at Pippa, she watches her face as she’s exposed, and almost makes a move to cover herself.

It’s almost as though Pippa can sense it. She tosses the bra behind her onto the floor without moving her eyes from Hecate’s, and then brings one hand down to Hecate’s cheek and the other to just under her left breast to rest above her heartbeat.

“You’re so gorgeous, Hiccup,” she whispers, eyes shining. She moves her right hand up and her left hand down so the they rest atop Hecate’s breasts with a tenderness that has Hecate blinking back tears. “So gorgeous,” she repeats, just ghosting her fingers over Hecate’s nipples until she has Hecate arching up into her hands.

She slides one hand down to trace patterns around Hecate’s hipbone and dips her head to press her mouth against Hecate’s neck, then the tops of her breasts, before finally, finally, taking Hecate’s nipple into her mouth. It’s almost more than Hecate thinks she can stand and her hips return to their quest, arching up off the bed only to be held in place by the weight of Pippa warm atop her.

Pippa kisses her way down along the underside of one breast and up the other, all the while moving a hand down between them to only just brush against the front of Hecate’s panties.

There’s a knowing look in her eye when she pulls back and looks down at Hecate, her fingers continue their barely-there ministrations as Hecate’s squirms and mewls beneath her.

“You’re going to _kill_ me,” Hecate grinds out, but Pippa only laughs, as her fingers ghost against the sodden fabric.

She becomes serious and leans over Hecate, both hands moving to pin Hecate’s arms above her head, her hips pushing down even more firmly so that Hecate is trapped beneath her.

“Oh, I like you like this, Hecate Hardbroom.”

She can feel the wetness between Pippa’s legs, slick and hot against her stomach, and the feeling of being completely at Pippa’s mercy, combined with the newfound knowledge of how much Pippa enjoys this, makes tremble.

She struggles deliberately against Pippa which only serves to feed the building heat low in her belly.

“ _Please_ ,” she begs a third time and Pippa leans down and kisses her, sweet and soft and full of promise.

“I love you,” she whispers against Hecate’s lips as she pulls back, releasing Hecate’s arms which immediately wrap around Pippa’s back.

“Say it again,” she whispers, her eyes suddenly wet and her voice shaking.

“I love you,” Pippa kisses her way down from Hecate’s mouth to her neck.

“I love you.” She leaves butterfly kisses across her chest and one delicately on Hecate’s right nipple.

“I love you.” Long fingers slide down to tug on her underwear and Pippa’s mouth follows. She scrapes her teeth against Hecate’s hipbone then softly kisses the juncture of hip and thigh that is revealed as Hecate’s underwear joins her dress and bra on the floor.

“I love you.” Lower still until she’s resting between Hecate’s legs and gazing up at her, cheeks bright pink and eyes glowing.

Hecate blushes, and blushes, and blushes and feels like she should close her legs and hide herself away because it’s Pippa, it’s _Pippa_ , and no one has ever done _this_ to her, and now it’s _Pippa_.

But then Pippa breaths, “ _I love you”_ one more time and takes Hecate into her mouth and and oh, god, oh good god, it’s _Pippa._  She arches off the bed and tries unsuccessfully to control the moans that tumble from her lips.

She feels Pippa’s tongue move against her, circling her clit and then sucking it into her mouth, and the heat in her stomach is pulsing down, down, down, until it’s no different from the feeling of Pippa’s mouth against her and oh _goddess._

Pippa’s fingers move to just under her mouth and press against Hecate in a way that makes her hips jump and quake. She pauses for a moment until Hecate looks down at her and their eyes lock, and Hecate breathes out a _“Yes.”_ Pippa slowly guides a finger into her, curling it in a way that makes Hecate’s head drop back down to the pillows as her body arches.

“Yes. _Yes._ Pippa, _please._ ” Pippa adds a second finger and returns her mouth to Hecate, and they move together in a rhythm that Hecate never wants to end despite the desperation that rises inside her as she bucks and gasps, thrusting to meet Pippa’s every move.

She calls out Pippa’s name until her consonants tangle up, tripping over themselves; until there’s nothing left but vowels, which Pippa wrings from her with clever hands and mouth.

She comes hard, her body pulling taut like a bowstring, hot, firely pleasure pulsing around Pippa’s fingers deep inside her.

It’s too much, it’s all too much and suddenly she’s sobbing as much from pleasure as emotional overload, bringing her hands up from where they’re tangled in Pippa’s hair to cover her eyes, turning her head into the pillow in mortification which only makes the tears come faster.

She feels Pippa slowly remove her fingers, and she cries at the loss of that as well, suddenly a huge sucking vacuum of need resting cold within her chest.

But Pippa slides up and covers her with her body, holding her gently and placing sweet kisses against her forehead.

“Oh, Hecate, oh my sweet.” She brings her fingers to Hecate’s chin and pulls her around so that Hecate can bury her face against Pippa’s chest. Pippa wraps an arm tightly around her and tangles their legs together, her free hand moving against Hecate’s hair, gently smoothing her braid where the hairs have come free.

“You are so loved,” she whispers against Hecate’s ear, humming softly as Hecate shivers against her.

“You are so loved, and so beautiful, my Hecate. My Hiccup.”  Gradually, Hecate calms and stills, the cold, aching chasm within her shrinking as it fills with the warmth of Pippa’s body and her words.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, for the seemingly the hundredth time that night, and Pippa pulls back slightly and slides down the bed until they’re nose to nose.

“I have you. I’m right here. And if you’ll have me, I won’t ever go away.” She kisses Hecate’s nose and pulls on her waist so they fit more closely together.

“I will never leave again. I promise. I _promise_.” Hecate breaths, she can still feel shame bubbling under her skin at the thought of all the years they’ve lost, but Pippa smooths her hand up Hecate’s back and it settles to a more manageable quiet regret.

She moves her mouth to Pippa’s, trying to put everything she feels into the kiss, but a thought stikes her and she draws back in horror.

“What about your parents,” she whispers in chagrin. “ _Pippa.”_

She sits up suddenly and moves away across the bed, her heart banging in her chest as her lungs constrict.

“You can’t be with me. You can’t. I won’t come between you and your parents. I know how much they love you. They _love you._ ”

But Pippa’s sliding across the bed after her until she’s practically in Hecate’s lap, strong fingers wrapping around her chin to force her head up so that their eyes can meet.

“You do _not_ get to decide that for me, Hecate.” Then softer, “I know they love me, which is why they’re scared. And they’re not mad, Hecate. They’re just _scared._ ”

Pippa presses her forehead against Hecate’s shoulder and it takes a moment before Hecate realises what Pippa’s asking for. Bringing her hands up she pulls Pippa down into her lap and more tightly against her, stroking over her back and giving comfort as best she knows how.

“Once they see how happy I am, they’re going to go back to loving you too,” Pippa murmurs into her skin, fingers curling against Hecate’s own back.

“They were almost as heartbroken as I was, maybe more so, because they were heartbroken over both me _and_ you.” She pulls back and strokes her fingers across the furrow in Hecate’s brow, smoothing it.

“I know now that you never meant to hurt me, Hiccup.” Pippa looks her dead in the eye and her fingers move to just over Hecate’s heart. “We’ve both been _fools._ ”

She rolls her eyes then leans forward and nips a Hecate’s lower lip before kissing her. The kiss turns from warm and slow to deep and searching and Hecate draws back after a spell, trying to catch up with both her breath and her thoughts.

“I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you,” she says slowly. “All the years of pain I caused.” She chews on her lip and wars with herself, her fingers twitching where they rest on Pippa’s back.

But Pippa laughs and angles her body forward more so that her center once more presses against Hecate’s stomach. Hecate’s head jerks up at the sensation and she takes in the way that Pippa’s eyes are darkening under fluttering lashes.

“I can think of a few ways,” she breathes, pulling Hecate’s arms from her back to her front where she holds them against her breasts and presses herself against them, her head falling back at Hecate’s touch.

Hecate leans in and places hot open mouth kisses against Pippa’s neck, her fingers tracing circles around Pippa’s nipples, just brushing them with her thumbs. Pippa gasps and her head comes back up as Hecate’s mouth reaches just under her chin, and then they’re kissing in a way that makes Pippa jerk against her whenever their tongues brush.

Slowly, Hecate moves a hand down Pippa’s stomach, feeling the toned muscles clenching beneath her fingers. She pulls out the of kiss and looks at Pippa, beautiful, gorgeous Pippa, with her swollen lips and mussed hair, and when she slides her hand between them, between Pippa’s legs, they both inhale, eyes locking together.

She strokes her gently before working her fingers in tight circles, and Pippa shifts so that Hecate can have better access, her breath coming faster with every movement. Sliding her fingers lower, Hecate presses slightly against Pippa’s opening and pauses.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She bites her lip, hesitating, though Pippa hisses and tries to press more firmly against her.

“Yes, yes, _Hecate_ ,” Pippa returns her forehead to Hecate’s and moves her own hand down to steady Hecate’s wrist as she slides down onto her fingers.

“Oh, god.” Hecate can feel her tighten and relax, tighten and relax, pulling her more deeply within her, and desire begins so build once more between her own legs.

Pippa’s fingers grip at her shoulders and Hecate feels her shift slightly, whimpering at the feeling of Hecate within her.

“I’ve waited for over 30 years for this, darling. I’m so very sure.”

And then Pippa is moving, fucking herself on Hecate’s fingers and Hecate can hardly comprehend the feelings that explode with in her - pleasure, desire, trust, possessiveness, _love_.

She tilts Pippa backwards until they spill together back onto the bed and Hecate has better access to move within Pippa, to feel the way she writhes beneath her, the way she contracts and shudders around Hecate’s fingers, the sound of her voice, breathless and desperate in her ear.

It’s almost enough, but not quite, and Hecate finds herself over taken by a desperate need _to taste_ and slides down the bed, pulling one of Pippa’s legs over her shoulder, wrapping her arm around the other so she can hold her open and she nearly cries again when Pippa’s finally beneath her tongue, at the way Pippa’s body aches and spasms as her cries increase.

When Pippa comes, it’s with Hecate’s name on her lips, and Hecate teeters near the brink herself. She pulls herself back up the bed to press a thigh between her own legs as her own pleasure crashes against her once more, her hand still buried inside Pippa feeling the last of the aftershocks.

They collapse together, sweaty and sated and Hecate slowly removes her hand before hesitantly bringing it to her lips to lick her fingers clean, blushing. Pippa eyes darken again at the sight and she pulls Hecate down and kisses her as a final tremor ripples through her body.

They hold each other, brushing hair out from around eyes and smoothing fingers over goosebumped skin.

“I love you,” Hecate whispers finally. “I - I - got overwhelmed before and I didn’t manage to say it.” She blushes, shamefaced at her own selfishness.

“You said it,” Pippa says, stroking her hair, and Hecate frowns down at her.

“You said it with her hands. And with your mouth. And with your eyes.” She moves so that they’re nose to nose on the pillow.

“Hecate, I think you’ve been saying it to me for years and years. I just didn’t see it until now because I was trying so very hard not to say it myself.”

She brushes a tear of Hecate’s cheek and Hecate reaches over and returns the gesture.

“I love you,” she says again.

“I know.” Pippa smiles. “I know.”

They lay in contented silence for a long while, breathing in unison, until Pippa’s lips twitch and she rolls onto her back, hand over her mouth laughing.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s just - Hecate - the _party._ I’m going to hear about this from Avery for the rest of my life. She’ll never let me live it down.”

Pippa laughs again, cheeks pink. Hecate feels her own mouth tug into a smile, remembering Avery’s genial winks and the way she had squeezed Pippa’s shoulder, in what Hecate now realizes in retrospect must have been encouragement.

“She seems the sort to understand.” 

She studies Pippa carefully for a moment and then says slyly, “Though, somehow, I don’t think Avery was on the decorating committee for mistletoe placement.”

Pippa has the decency to look at least slightly abashed, but rolls back to throw a leg over Hecate’s hip.

“Well.” She says.

“Well.” Says Hecate, and kisses her.


End file.
